


out of the blue

by robin_hoods



Series: your blue room [2]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Blow Jobs in a Car, Kissing, M/M, There's A Tag For That, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7311121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robin_hoods/pseuds/robin_hoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba's day takes several unexpected turns -- mostly on the inside of the Blue Square van.</p>
            </blockquote>





	out of the blue

**Author's Note:**

> While I was editing this, I had some minor "but what if it's crap?" issues. (As most people do, probably.) 
> 
> But seeing as I'm posting this anyway: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It hasn’t even been a week since Aoba got kissed, and yet he already knows it’s a terrible idea to do it again. He honestly wouldn’t have given it much more thought afterwards, if he hadn’t bumped into his brother today.

He hates Ran.

Perhaps not as much as he did as a child, but Aoba thinks it’s quite useless to place emotions like love or hate on a scale. You either love someone or you don’t. You hate them or you don’t. The line between like and dislike is too fine for him to consider crossing, especially when it comes to someone as volatile as Ran. As tt turns out, even Ran has some tricks up his sleeve that Aoba hadn’t taken into account.

Still, it leaves him with a dilemma. The last thing he wants is to tell Mikado about it. He’s still ambivalent about how Mikado feels about him, and this isn’t something he trusts his elder with. Or anyone else, for that matter. It’s one thing for Ran to expose whatever secrets he thinks Aoba might have, it’s quite another for Aoba to do so himself. Some people might consider it to be empowering; but he just never wants to think about it. It’s easier to call Ran a liar, after all.

He has to admit he’s a little worried, though. His brother, wanting to pay his respects to the leader of the Dollars? He can’t see that going well for him in any kind of situation, especially not the one where Ran comes sauntering in and introduces himself as Aoba’s elder brother and former leader of the Blue Squares. Mikado would take it in stride, probably, like he does most things. He’d adapt, like he always does. Aoba just isn’t sure if he wants his senpai to adapt to someone like Ran.

Their clean-up operation of the Dollars has advanced to the point where they’re having fights on an almost daily basis. He’s done this so many times by now that Aoba doesn’t have to think about what he’s doing, he lets his body do the thinking for him. He likes to think of himself as the brains rather than the brawn of the Blue Squares, but he knows how to handle himself. Mikado’s trying to keep up with them, but he’s rather terrible at using his fists. He internally winces when some guy manages to catch him in the nose, but Gin makes quick work of it so he turns back around.

The end up tossing him into the back of the van, and he finds himself thinking it’s a shame they still can’t quite see what he sees in Mikado – or, at least, what he has to offer them. The Dollars are far more vast than they can imagine, larger than any gang Aoba has either been part of or knows – at least up until he joined the Dollars himself. Now, as long as they have Mikado’s protection as figurehead of the Dollars, they can get away with far more than they would have been able to as just the Blue Squares.

Mikado comes to soon after, and he’s rubbing his jaw absently later while he stares out the window of the car. Aoba keeps an eye on him; he’s not overly worried, but getting punched in the face and subsequently losing consciousness doesn’t bode well, for anyone.

“You’ve heard about Kadota-san, right?” he asks, and Mikado nods. He’d heard about it earlier, in the chatroom, which means Mikado must have seen it posted on the Dollars board.

Mikado tells him he can hardly believe it happened, and they talk about whether to go and visit the hospital or not. He can see where Mikado is coming from, when he says they might run into too many people who they’d rather not see right now. And while Aoba is grateful that Kadota and his gang looked out for them that one time with the motorcycle gangs, he doesn’t feel particularly strongly about him either. Just enough to be worried someone hated him, or the Dollars, enough to put him in the hospital.

Aoba nearly finds himself raising his eyebrows when Mikado mentions he shouldn’t bring Kadota a potted plant or camellia. He has to admit he’s not entirely aware of hospital visitation etiquette, but even he knows that to bring someone a potted plant when they’re in the hospital is bad luck. For Mikado to point it out, though…

They park the van in a quiet alleyway besides a factory they’ve perused as their base more than once now, although Aoba knows they’ll have to find a new hide-out, preferably sooner rather than later.

“Stay,” Mikado says when he gets up to climb out of the car. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

The other Blue Squares are just waiting for them outside, and he makes a shooing motion with his hand. One of them tosses the keys through the opened window, onto the seat, and another crows at them to clean up after themselves when they’re done. Aoba flips them off, and they leave, laughter following their wake.

“What is it, senpai?” he asks, after recomposing himself.

Mikado has unbuckled his seatbelt by now, has his head turned towards him, and unlike earlier, his expression is open and even somewhat… worried? “I couldn’t help but notice you were more tense than usual, today. Did anything happen?”

“Ah, it’s really nothing to worry about. It doesn’t have anything to do with the Blue Squares, just… some trouble at home.” Well, he’s not _lying_ , per se, just stretching the truth a little. After all, Ran hasn’t been part of the Blue Squares in quite a while now, and even if Aoba hasn’t lived with him ever since their parents got divorced, they’re still related. Even if he’d rather they weren’t.

Mikado looks at him for far longer than Aoba deems necessary, seemingly studying his face. “You know you don’t have to keep up that façade in front of me, right?”

Aoba is momentarily baffled, his own smile falling off his face even as Mikado keeps up his own smile. “Façade? Then, who am I, according to you?” He has to admit, he’s at least a little curious about the answer. Mikado might believe they’ve gotten to know each other over the past few months, and while he’s become aware of a side of Aoba most people never see, it doesn’t mean that’s the whole of him. He doesn’t think so, anyway. Oh, he knows he’s not a normal person, by any stretch of the imagination, and he never will be quite as well-adjusted as… other law-abiding people. He’s okay with that.

“I know Aoba-kun isn’t a very nice person,” Mikado says, and he doesn’t break eye-contact while he speaks. “He can be self-centred, and cruel, and I don’t think he cares much about anyone other than himself. He does what he does because he wants to, not because anyone is making him. And if he does things that make it seem like he’s out of his depth,” Mikado has slowly been making his way over to Aoba’s side of the car, barely blinking, and as he puts his hand on Aoba’s knee he says, “it’s only because he likes to think of himself as always being the one in control, behind the scenes. Even when he’s not.” He smiles. “Is that right?”

“Somewhat,” he manages. He almost expects Mikado to blush and say something like, ‘I’m glad. I was a little worried I’d offended you.’

But he doesn’t. He just smiles knowingly, like he’s aware of every single lie, every detail Aoba has omitted, every time he’s not been completely honest with him. “Somewhat?” he asks instead.

“You might be right, or you might be wrong,” Aoba says, and Mikado’s not truly looking at him; rather, he’s looking at the movement of his lips. “What does it matter, if you don’t understand why?”

He can’t claim he can pin-point exactly what makes Mikado tick, except that the one thing that has propelled him forward in the time he’s known him is that he always wants more. He scrapes a nail or two across the inside of his palm. He knows all too well that Mikado is constantly reinventing himself, seeking out that which excites him. He’s fickle, but at least he’s consistently so.

Mikado hums in response to his reply, and Aoba can see him considering his words, thinking about what might drive Aoba day after day. He yelps in surprise when Mikado digs his fingers behind his knee, and lifts his leg before he can protest. Mikado’s sudden action forces him to move, so he’s now sitting with his back against the door instead of the seat, with his right leg pressed to the side, his other foot firmly against the floor.

“Then it’s just a matter of finding out, isn’t it?” Mikado asks, and then suddenly adds, “This isn’t uncomfortable, right?”

“Uh, no,” Aoba awkwardly says, and wonders what they’d say if any of the Blue Squares happened to find them in a compromising position like this. They have to at least know something is going on, they’re not completely stupid.

“Good,” is all Mikado says before capturing Aoba’s lips. They’ve only done this twice since the first time they kissed, once on the same day right before Aoba left and Mikado pressed him against his front door, the other time two days ago, early in the afternoon, when he out of the blue gave him a quick peck right before the others arrived. But neither of those times was anything like this.

Mikado kisses him like he wants him; their teeth clack when Aoba fists on of his hands in Mikado’s hair, using the other to keep his balance – to not fall in the gap between the seat and the door.

It’s so hard not to moan into his mouth when Mikado gently bites down on his lower lip and then uses his tongue, warm and wet, to meet him halfway. It’s odd that, even with his attention on Mikado and his lips and wonderful mouth, how aware he feels of his own body, Mikado’s hair against his fingertips, the slight tingling of one of his feet, the heat that’s started to pool in his belly.

The only sounds in the van are those of them breathing through their noses, or quick gasps in the brief intervals where their lips don’t touch. There’s the sounds of the zipper of Mikado’s jacket being undone, of lips smacking, of Aoba muttering a curse word underneath his breath when he accidentally hits the back of his head against the window.

It doesn’t really matter how much time it takes, because by the time Mikado leans back to look at him, Aoba’s too far gone to really care about any voyeurs or unwanted eyes.

Mikado hesitates, uncertain about what step to take next, still positioned between Aoba’s legs like he can’t quite believe he’s there. There’s really only so much they can do before they take it a step further, Aoba thinks, and thrusts his hips upwards a little, meeting Mikado’s knee. Said boy looks down at his crotch and promptly blushes.

“Well, aren’t you?” he asks, slyly nudging Mikado with the foot where his shoe just popped off. “I don’t mind, if you need to…” He doesn’t even have to finish his sentence for Mikado to turn an even darker shade of red, and he resists the temptation to laugh at the fumbling mess he’s turning into. He shouldn’t, not if he still wants some more action to happen.

He unbuttons his pants instead, zips down – but only to give his hand some space, as he puts it right under the waistband of his underwear. His eyelids flutter as he first touches himself, but it’s not enough to miss the look on Mikado’s face, like he’s torn between being horrified and turned on, and in turn horrified by being turned on.

“What?” he says, although it comes out a little more strained that he’d thought it would. “You do this to yourself, right?” he asks, continuing to firmly stroke, making sure to keep looking at Mikado, right up until—

“No, I—”

“Who do you think about, senpai? You do fantasise about someone, right? I do when I get—”

“I—no—Aoba. _Stop_.”

Aoba looks down. There’s a hand on his wrist. He looks back up. Mikado looks a little helpless. “What?” he finally says, perhaps sharper than he had intended.

“I—I just. I wanted…” His eyes flicker to the side, his hand still holding on, even if it’s not forcefully. His gaze flickers back down. “I wanted to, um, do you?”

“Oh.” Well, in _that_ case. He retracts his hand, and then watches with faint amusement as Mikado, blush still fading, uses both his hands to pull his pants further down. He’d really only expected him to pull them over his hips, but instead Mikado goes the whole way and takes them off entirely. His pants end up on the floor, and his underwear quickly follows. If he feels a little naked all of a sudden, that’s probably because he is.

He kind of wants to complain about it, because if Mikado’s only planning on giving him a handjob, there’s no need for him to take everything off.

Except, instead of tentatively lifting one of his hands, like Aoba had expected, Mikado shifts back on the seat. He leans forward on his hands, both on either side of Aoba’s waist, and then he bows his head forward, Aoba’s dick disappearing into his mouth.

His own mouth has probably fallen open, but he hasn’t noticed yet, and it’s—it’s so much better than good. Aoba has no freaking clue whether Mikado’s done this before – hey, he’s watching his teeth, that’s a good sign, right? – but as Aoba doesn’t have much material to compare it with, he’s gonna say that for a first-timer, he’s doing a fucking good job.

He takes his mouth off far more quickly than Aoba would have liked him to, and Mikado looks at him enquiringly. “I wonder what it is you want. Why you’re doing this.”

Aoba is about to say, ‘You haven’t figured it out yet?’ but gasps when Mikado _licks him_ instead, not at all seeming like the boy who had no idea what to do. If Aoba didn’t know any better, he might’ve thought he must have practiced somewhere, on some _one_ , and the thought makes him irrationally jealous. What does he care what his senpai does in his spare time; as long as it doesn’t interfere with Blue Square business.

“I could always guess about what you don’t want,” Mikado continues, his breath warm against Aoba’s cock, before he uses his tongue again – and Aoba wants to tell him that trying to have a serious conversation while giving someone a blowjob defeats the entire purpose of it. Not that Mikado ever does anything in a straightforward way. Apparently that even includes anything sexual. He continues, unperturbed. “I don’t think you want money,” another lick, “or love,” a kiss, “or even power.” He pauses to let his words sink in, then opens his mouth again – Aoba nearly expects him to go on a diatribe about what drives Aoba, what makes him tick. But he doesn’t.

No, instead he wraps his mouth back around him, taking his time to slowly suck until he has his nose flush against his hair. He can barely form any coherent words by now, and while Mikado lets up a little – he still has a gag reflex, it seems – Aoba just wants to thrust his hips into his face until he comes.

And he knows he’s going to, soon – he’s young, it’s a miracle he’s held on for this long – but he doesn’t expect that Mikado’s blueish grey eyes flicking upwards to look at him will be what undoes him.

He bites down hard on his teeth as his body shudders, and Mikado finally lets go, licks his lips and smiles. If he hadn’t just come, he might have been able to do it again, just because of that. What the hell is wrong with him?

“I don’t think you’re interested in any of those things,” Mikado says, almost like an afterthought. “I don’t think you want money, or power. I think you’re happier controlling people from the side-lines than being the one in power yourself.” When he kisses Aoba this time around, he finds that he can taste himself.

“As for love… I don’t think you want that either, unlike most people.”

“Does that include you?” Aoba asks, and Mikado slyly gets around it by kissing him again. On the other hand, that’s as close to an answer he’s going to get to that particular question.

“You probably have a reason for that. It doesn’t really matter whether I think you’re wrong or not.”

“So, what does love mean, according to you.” He’s not dying to know. The answer will be the same as it is from every other person down the street.

“I think most people would define it as deeply caring for another person, unconditionally.”

“There’s no such thing,” Aoba retorts. It’s not so much the concept of love existing that he has a problem with, but he doesn’t believe in the unconditional part of it.

“Let me put it this way. I just blew you. What do you expect to happen next?”

Aoba frowns, looks down, and then back up. “I return the favour?”

“I don’t think you’re dumb enough to believe that was a favour,” Mikado says, “but no, you don’t have to.”

“Why? Because you _love_ me?” He laughs, because the idea is preposterous.

Mikado actually laughs in return. “No, of course not. Sometimes, people just do things for each other because they want to, not because they expect anything in return.”

Aoba rolls his eyes in reply. Yes, of course. Everyone always wants something, sooner or later, Mikado included. He’s only human, after all. Like everyone else, he exists to use others, or to be used by them instead. Just like Aoba is. Just like everyone else on this planet.

“There’s one thing I do know you want, though,” Mikado says, just as Aoba’s putting his pants back on.

“What’s that, senpai?”

“Me.”

He says it lightly, like he doesn’t know what a revelation like that will do to Aoba, like he doesn’t know he’s speaking the truth. He simply allows him to finish getting dressed, after which Aoba locks the door of the van behind them when they slip out into the night.

So maybe Mikado doesn’t want him to get onto his knees. He’ll just want something else instead. Even when Mikado reminds him to ‘think about it’, that’s really the only thing he considers. Feelings are fleeting. His existence in the world is not.

He’ll do anything within his power to make it stay that way.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who, like me, don't know much about hospital etiquette in Japan, I used [this site](http://tarchblog.blogspot.nl/2011/03/japanese-manners-of-visiting-patient-in.html), and found it very enlightening. (I was so confused when I watched that bit for the first time. Like, obviously you don't bring a potted plant, do you know how heavy those things are??)
> 
> And in case people didn't know, I have a [tumblr](http://southern-winterking.tumblr.com) where I do occasionally post about writing and stuff (and I accept prompts, so feel free to leave one in my askbox! Or just, you know, nag me about when the next part to this is coming out, haha). 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, like always. :)


End file.
